


blood sugar

by darkberry



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Adoption, Anon April, Childhood Trauma, Dark Reylo, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fucked Up, Fucking, Incest, Light Angst, Parent/Child Incest, Sexual Tension, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, birth dad attraction, finding your birth dad and holy shit why is he hot, genetic sexual attraction, happily ever after motherfuckers, she's 18 and he's 34
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-01-20 21:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18533287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkberry/pseuds/darkberry
Summary: Rey's found her birth dad when she turned 18, and holy hell.He's hot.After a lifetime of not fitting in, just try taking him away from her now.Justtryit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [succubusybody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/succubusybody/gifts).



> surprise

 

The diner was quiet. Too quiet.

Rey wiped her hands down the length of her denim thighs. Her turquoise nail polish was chipping - she hadn’t taken time to rub it off and start over.

When her birth dad had emailed back, shocked to hear he had a kid, let alone an 18 year-old daughter two hours away, Rey had been so busy throwing proof at him she’d barely slept a wink for three days.

 

“He’s not going to be my _actual_ dad. I know,” she’d assured her mom, the one she’d known all her life. The one who sat crying at their kitchen table, worrying the shredded Kleenex into a papery mess. “No one will ever take yours or Daddy’s place,” she’d said, glancing at her father in his chair across the living room. “You know that.”

Her father had smiled back weakly, watching from his recliner. His graying mustache twitched when he spoke.

“I know, kiddo. I know.” He’d sighed and rubbed his bristled chin, looking at Rey’s mom. “She’s gotta do what she’s gotta do, Gail.”

Rey had met her mother’s wet eyes, bloodshot and swollen and she pushed down annoyance. They were coming to a clearing. She could feel it. An agreement lay on the other side of this conversation, if she could just bear it a while longer. 

 

“Don’t you want us to come with you? What if he’s dangerous? Or he doesn’t believe you?”

Because of course anyone Rey was blood related to was automatically also potentially a criminal. No way they could all expect him to be normal. Or rich or famous or even good.

 

“He’s not gonna hurt me, mama. He’s my birth father. And I’ll text you and daddy when it’s over. Maybe even send you a selfie with him. If he wants to.”

It'd felt stupid to think it, let alone wish it out loud like she was a baby. Heads leaned into one another, matching smiles or hair color, smiling at Rey’s camera like a family. She stuffed it down deep with other ridiculous, unrealized hopes. Birthday cards that never arrived. Christmas mornings without a stranger at the front door. Parents who never came back.

 

“And I already sent him my birth certificate with his name on it. There’s no denying it.”

She’d wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders while they shook with fresh tears.

“This is hard for your mother,” her father had said, meeting Rey’s eyes.

 

As if Rey needed it explained. As if she needed permission. As if this wasn’t all an exercise in futility for her, aware her parents would never understand why she needed to meet this man whose name they’d kept from her all her life.

“I know, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

 

More apologies. They never ended. And Rey was so tired of apologizing.

Apologies for her dependence, her expense, her inconvenience. And then, when she grew older and capable for her curiosity, her strengths, her differences.

She’d been taller than her older sister by seven. A faster runner than her big brother. Even their cat preferred Rey since the Christmas morning their father carried him into the living room with a red bow around his neck.

She was different - never fit in. Never forgot it. Couldn’t even if she’d tried.

The only kid with hazel eyes instead of blue, brown hair instead of blonde.

She loved her family more than life itself, even more so when she finished high school and still had a home with them, but she’d looked for her birth dad in every stranger she’d walked by. Every married man. Every PTA father.

 _What if that’s him?_ she’d wondered when a brown-haired man walked by at a theme park when she was a kid. Her sister and brother had posed and grinned for the camera, and Rey had been annoyed she couldn’t see where the man was going. She’d lost him by the time the picture was snapped. _What if that was my real daddy?_

 

“It’s not that I’m replacing you. You know that. Right?” she’d asked, patting her mom’s back while her dad watched them with his feet up. “I just want to meet him. Especially since Bazine is dead. Ya know? I just wanna know him a little. Like an extended family member. That’s all.”

More asking permission. More seeking approval. She winced, feeling disloyal. She’d wished for a deep connection to her birth father all her life, on every falling star, every birthday candle. The one who’d known her mother.

But, her loyal heart knew the kindness of Marcus Jacobetti, the man who’d raised her. Carried her to the car when she'd broken a leg. Sang that stupid song he'd made up with her name in it. Sold used Hondas for a living.

When her mom and dad had hugged her goodnight, she’d exhaled the deepest breath of relief she’d ever known.

Marcus and Gail would stay home. Rey would go meet Ben alone.

 

It had seemed a fantastic idea at the time.

Sitting in the sticky booth under yellow lights, Rey wasn’t so sure. She fiddled with the plastic straw in her water, stirring a tornado into the ice.

 

6:13

Two more minutes.

 

The bell over the diner’s door chimed and Rey’s head shot up. A stocky man with a buzz cut walked in, gold chain and splashy t-shirt. Rey tensed, hands curling around her unused silverware as he approached her booth. He sailed past, sauntering to the booth behind her with a cocky voice.

She didn’t notice him until he was in front of her, just three feet away for the first time in her life.

 

“Rey?”

He was huge. Massive. Wide shoulders in his leather jacket lead to large hands stuffed into jeans pockets. He ducked to see her face, eyebrows raised imploringly. He was pale. Black, long hair. Oversized features, an angular face, softened by quivering lips and - _oh._ Those.

Those were familiar. His eyes.

Those were Rey’s.

 

There he was.

 

Rey stood and tucked hair behind her ear nervously. He was so tall. Imposing. Formidable.

“I’m - yes. I’m Rey.”

She reached a trembling, damp hand, and he took it in both his own. Warm and solid. He covered her up so easily. His eyes were liquid dark. Coffee and cream. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and Rey nodded, eyes brighter to compensate for his tongue-tied attempt.

“And you’re Ben?” she offered. It was a great name. Suited him. 

Nodding, he huffed and dropped her hand. He ran a hand through his dark hair and shook his head with a look of shock.

“Yeah. Sorry. I just - yeah. I’m Ben. So good to meet you, Rey.”

  
This was weird.

Rey’s head bounced on her shoulders in agreement and she slid into the booth, motioning for him to join her. “Sit?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Yes.”

He rolled his broad shoulders inside his jacket, craning his throat and flexing his jaw as he eased into the booth.

“This is surreal,” he said, looking at Rey with amazement scattered all across his features. “Meeting you for the first time and you’re already…” He nodded at her once again and Rey blushed slightly. She couldn’t remember the last time her father had referred to her as anything but kiddo or rascal, the same things he’d called Rey all her life. And he never looked at her in undisputable wonder.

“Yeah, well. My parents didn’t give me my birth certificate until I applied for college, and then one thing led to another and - well. I found you pretty easily. I hope - you don’t - I mean, I’m sorry if I - “

 

Maybe he was disappointed she’d found him, after all.

He’d been shocked at first, and understandably had questioned her sources when Rey had emailed him. Their emails had only gone back and forth a few times, maybe he was sorry she’d found him. Tone was so hard to convey over the internet and she had wanted it so badly.

“No. No - _fuck._ I just -” He shook his head again, and smiled gently. “You’re just so grown. I was picturing a kid and you’re all grown up. I’ve missed so much. I’ve been so - “ His hands slid under the table and Rey heard him rub his thighs nervously. “I’m sorry. You know? I’m just so sorry.”

“I'm not looking for apologies.”

 

She’d been apologizing for herself all her life. She wouldn’t want him to feel that way, too.

“I know you didn’t know about me. Bazine never even told me about you when she had the chance before she - and my parents never knew if they should tell me or not. It’s okay.”

He met her eyes and Rey had to smile. He looked sad. Wounded, almost. She’d seen big men in real life before, at least as big and wide as Ben, if not taller. There wasn’t a time she could recall seeing someone with such size and softness in one package though. Like life was too much, and he’d grown big just to handle it all.  

 

“Your parents. Are they - have you had a good life? Are they good to you?”

This part was easy. They’d always done their best. Given her every opportunity, afforded her everything a kid should have. They were easy to love - mostly.

“My parents are great,” she said, watching his shoulders relax. “And I’m not trying to replace them. I don’t have any expectations of you to be, like my dad or anything. I have a dad already, and he’s awesome.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure. Taught me to ride a bike. Drive a car. Helped me apply for college. Threatened a boyfriend in high school.” She grinned at the memory and Ben’s face broadened as he smiled back at her.

 

God, he was actually beautiful. His eyes did a sort of twinkling thing when he smiled. Crooked teeth. Something like an amused arrogance in his smirk that made her tummy turn over inside her skin.

She was making him smile, putting him at ease. She felt pride well up inside herself. It felt good.

 

“What can I get you two?”

The waitress at their elbow appeared before Rey was finished looking at Ben’s smile.

“Oh, um…”

“Anything you want,” Ben said. “My treat.”

He was going to pay, then. She hadn’t even thought about that part.

“You sure?”

“You kidding?”

He didn’t want anything from her. He was just here, and he was going to buy her a meal and just look at her like she’d hung the stars in the sky, apparently.

She bit her lip to conceal the smile and handed the waitress her plastic menu. “Cheeseburger and fries, well done, please. And a Cherry Coke.”

“Same, same,” Ben said, handing the menu to the waitress without a glance. “Uh, thanks,” he murmured as she’d already walked away.

“Thanks.”

Ben waved her away and leaned back in the booth, shrugging his shoulders. “Shoulda been paying for things like this all along. I just never knew about - Bazine and I only dated for like a month before she moved away. We were stupid fucking sixteen year-olds. Babies. I had no fucking idea you were even - oh. Shit. Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Cursing. In front of you like that. Damn it. Sorry.”

Rey rolled her eyes and curled her legs under herself in the booth. “I’m not a baby. Jesus, Ben. I’m a grown-ass adult woman. You can cuss if you want.”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Okay, adult woman.”

 

Silence hung over the table. It wasn’t like being with her dad at a meal, wasn’t the way her dad spoke to her. Wasn't exactly the way her dad looked at her. Ben met her eyes and looked away long enough she traced the line of his jaw with her gaze. He was different. He looked special.

He _was_ special.

And too hot.

 

He picked up a fork and set it down again, motioning to Rey with his left hand. “This is sort of awkward I guess. For you. Seeing me. Isn’t it?”

Rey tilted her head. “Are you left-handed?”

“Uh - yes? Why? Is that bad?”

“I’m left-handed, too.”

“Oh. So, we’re the same. I guess. Is that okay? I mean...were you hoping that I’d - “

“It’s good.” Rey reached out and curled a hand around his. He stopped fidgeting and squeezed her fingers in his own. “It’s great.”

Her cheeks were heated. Low in her belly, something turned over. His eyes were too dark. Black lava. He squeezed her fingers one more time and lifted an arm to the back of the booth, draping it absently.

That smile of his was deadly. Half-cocked and sort of dark. Rey leaned over the table and tucked her hands under her thighs. Maybe next time she’d sit on the same side of the table as Ben. Lean into him a little. Tuck under his arm when he raised it like that.

 

“So, tell me about yourself, Rey Jacobetti. I wanna know all about my little girl.”

She was his. His little girl. She belonged. 

She belonged to Ben. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> moodboard by my amazing wife [NewerConstellations](https://twitter.com/NewerConstella1) who makes magic of everything she touches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reworked this second chapter, and my only regret is the lost comments from you beautiful, kind souls. Thank you and I love you especially: **alstweinLUVIA, Cataclyzmic, LoneWolf_65194, tenoh27, AlejandrA_RambleS, ncboudicca, Christina92251, succubusybody, EmpireX, Fang73, Yla22, Piperman, Reylofsymbolism(Ragna01), sunshinexxmoonlight, Akynara, geekmystic, Sololover1973, NinaNaNaNinja, and NewerConstellations + anyone I accidentally left out?**
> 
> You guys are the real MVPs, forgive me.  
> P.S. the couch will return, in chapter 3. xo  
> darkberry

 

 

The bedroom was quiet. Calm.

Rey’s eyes adjusted to the dark as she got her breathing under control. It has been so real - the nightmare. Escalators that led no where. People trying to tug her off her feet. Her parents, her sister, her high school algebra teacher shouting to her to get off, but she couldn’t.  
  
She couldn’t see him in the dream, but she’d known Ben was close. She could sense him, and her dream self fought desperate panic as she tried to find him inside the bizarre shopping mall. 

Things with her parents had been so tense. It made sense to dream of conflict between them, especially after dinner that night. They’d been fighting over big things like Rey’s choice of college major and over nothing at all, like her stuffed bunny. The one Ben had given her, joking he needed to make up for a shit ton of missed birthday gifts. He was grey, the bunny, with oversized, pink cottony ears, and a button nose beside thread whiskers. 

Her parents had smiled weakly when she’d come home from dinner with Ben the week before with his bunny tucked under her arm. 

“He’s cute,” her mother had said, picking up a short, stuffed arm. “A gift from your birth father?” 

“Ben,” Rey had corrected. “Yeah. Ben gave him to me.” 

“Aren’t you a little bit old for stuffed animals, kiddo?” her father had asked. He’d kept his eyes off Rey, peering over his glasses to set the thermostat. 

She’d pressed down annoyance at his naivety. Bubbling defiance threatened to erupt whenever they discussed Ben. 

Her parents were doing the best they could - she wanted to give credit where it was due - but, they couldn’t let an opportunity pass without criticizing Rey’s relationship with Ben. 

  
How often she saw him.  
How much money he seemed to be spending on her.  
How little time she spent seeing her own friends.  
  
And now this.  
  
“Ya know, dad,” Rey had huffed. She shifted the bunny in her arms, deciding to release a small amount of indignation before she exploded. “Can you just let me have this? Huh? I have rights too, you know. It’s not just you and mom who have rights, no matter what that judge decided when you took me.”

Her father had turned to look at her slowly, and Rey shrank. Hurt and anger warred for dominance on his face. Rey had taken a small step backward as her mother hurried past, laying a hand on her father’s arm.  
  
“Marcus, it’s late. Let’s go to bed.” 

He’d grunted, never taking his eyes off Rey. When he’d turned away, led to their bedroom by Rey’s mother, guilt bloomed hot as bile in her throat. She’d followed her parents to their door, a tsunami of feelings tugging her deeper, risking drowning. 

“Daddy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Mom, tell him. I’m sorry, daddy. Seriously. I’m - “ 

His hand had wrapped around the door, but he’d kept his face hidden. 

“I know, Rey. Go to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

The door had clicked shut loudly and Rey had jumped a little. She’d buried her face in the soft bunny’s head, closing her own bedroom door before a torrent of tears cascaded down her cheeks. 

The Jacobetti house just couldn’t seem to adjust since Rey had gotten reacquainted with her birth dad. With Ben. The night he’d come to dinner to meet Rey’s parents, she’d danced around the house cleaning and prepping like she was expecting the love of her life to show up. Changed her outfit three times. Couldn’t stop giggling all day because she was going to see him. 

He stood in her doorway and her heart nearly gave out. 

He was several inches taller than her father, broad and handsome and dark in a way no Jacobetti man had been - maybe no one on earth. 

It hadn’t started out that badly. They’d smiled graciously at Ben, invited him inside, took his leather jacket to hang on the polished coat rack in the entryway. 

Ben had tried to look unintimidating, using all the best formal manners. He’d shaken their hands, murmuring his gratitude to Marcus and Gail for having him to dinner. Rey’d watched him take a deep breath, run palms against his thighs, and shoot her a smile. 

If the Jacobettis had been taken aback by Ben’s deep voice or his long hair, it was nothing compared to their frozen wonder at the jokes and warmth Rey and Ben shared. 

When she’d bounded up to him, helping herself to his embrace, she’d breathed him in. He always smelled so good. Always let Rey squeeze him as tight as she wanted. She’d grinned, introducing him to the house she’d grown up in. Ben had walked behind her, nodding. Hands in his pockets, head bent to listen, he’d been quiet as a church mouse. A student of Rey’s life. There were framed photos of her growing up, stacked two or three deep all over the house. 

Rey in volleyball gear, all knobby elbows and braces at 13. 

Rey’s chubby knees and a string of drool, reaching for the camera as a baby. 

Rey between her brother and sister, shrieking on a rollercoaster around 7.  

It was embarassing, really, but Ben seemed to love it. Teased her about her thunder thighs as a baby. Pointed out the cowlick just like his own. Told her how beautful her senior pictures has been - like a princess. Rey poked him in the ribs, smiling and teasing him for wearing long sleeves to cover his ink. Her eyes had twinkled when she grinned at him around a bite of mashed potatoes, and Ben couldn’t stop the smirk he sent back.  

“So,” Rey’s dad began. He’d cleared his throat and wiped his mustache with a napkin. “What is it you do, Ben?”

Ben had gulped down ice water and licked his lips. He placed the heavy, silver knife on the linen tablecloth beside his plate. 

“Uh, carpenter.” He’d glanced at Rey and then her mother. “I’m a carpenter. I build furniture. Sell to local storefronts and ship pieces all over the country.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Rey’s mother cooed. “Like Jesus.” 

“Mom,” Rey hissed. She rolled her eyes at Ben and he looked away before he could smile back at her, blinked down at his plate. 

“Well, maybe not so angelic,” Ben apologized. “But, sure. Just a regular carpenter.”

“And how’d you end up doing carpentry?” Rey’s father asked. 

“Grew up tinkering. Learned from my old man. Started small. Just whittling.” He shrugged and twirled his fork. Glanced at Rey who watched him steadily across the table. “He had me building bookcases and toolboxes by the time I was ten. Wasn’t too hard to move on from there.” 

  
Ben had poked at the potatoes and speared a carrot. 

“And so, you sell to local businesses?” 

Ben swallowed the carrot, cleared his throat. Rey silently willed her parents to ease up, cursed them for being so impossible to please. He was hers and he was what she wanted. Her family - her everything. Who cared if he made furniture or golden scepters for the English crown? 

Ben was Rey’s and she _wanted_ him.

No one would threaten that now. _No_ one. 

 

“I do, yes.”

“And you like this line of work?” 

“Daddy, please,” Rey interrupted. “What is this, twenty questions?”

“I’m just getting to know your - Mr. Solo, kiddo,” her father had answered, turning to Rey. He held her stare and she glared at him a little. 

“His name is Ben.”

“Alright. I’m just getting to know Ben,” he’d answered, before huffing and picking up his fork again. 

Ben had watched the exchange of looks between Rey’s parents at opposite sides of the table, and reached for his water.

“Ben’s craftsmanship is incredible,” Rey had said, rescuing him. She lifted the fork to her lips, and looked over the food to meet Ben’s eyes with a smile. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. I’m telling you. It’s unbelievably beautiful.” 

Ben shook his head and looked at the table. 

“It’s just wood. It tells you what to carve, you just pick up a tool and pay attention.” 

“No way. You’re extremely talented.” 

“You’re being way too nice to me.”

“I’m being honest.”

“I don’t deserve it.” 

Rey’s mom interjected, looking at Ben. “Well, I’d sure like to see this genius handiwork sometime. Wouldn’t you, Marcus?”

“Of course,” Ben said. “I’d be happy to show you. I’m working on a couple pieces I plan to exhibit at a local arts fair in the fall.” 

“Sure. Sure,” Rey’s dad nodded, looking at his wife. “Sometime we’ll have to go and see Ben’s woodwork.” 

“It’s furniture,” Rey emphasized. “Not just woodworking. You make it sound like Ben makes knick-knacks and bread boxes.” 

“Not at all,” her mother had said, “we’ll be very happy to see what interesting crafts Mr. Solo makes, honey. We know they’re not bread boxes. Does anyone even make those anymore?” She laughed lightly, looking around. Rey’s fork clanged against her plate loudly. 

“His name is _Ben_ , mama, and they’re not _crafts_. They’re furniture. It’s his livelihood. He’s an adult man named Ben and this is his career we’re talking about, not shop class.”

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry,” her mother had said. 

“Rey…” Her father’s tone was familiar to Ben’s ears, a parent’s warning. 

The chair scraped when Rey’s mother had scooted back from the table, smiling. 

“Who wants dessert?”

Ben had disappeared into the bathroom and Rey rounded on her parents, demanding they ease the hell up. Didn’t Rey’s opinions matter as little as her rights had as a baby? Was she never to have anything of her own without her parent’s express consent? Did she even need it? She couldn't bring herself to care.

“Text you about the weekend?” 

She’d stood watching as Ben tugged on his jacket by the front door. Her parents were in the kitchen, noisy and normal. Ben pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“Okay. Yeah. If you want to. I’ll be - of course. If you want to. Yeah. You can text me.” 

She’d bounced up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “K. I will. G’night.” 

His car’s tail lights glowed red, and she watched until they flashed around a corner, out of sight.

 

When she knocked on his front door an hour later, she could tell he’d still been up. Rey tracked him through the small living room, watched him walk to the front door of his house and her heart skipped a beat. He was coming - she was okay. Safe. 

“Rey?”

He’d barely spoken before she was wrapped around him, face buried in his chest. She was damp with tears, sobbing. He’d shoved the door closed and held her close. 

“Baby, baby,” he crooned. Rey scrambled for purchase against his back, grabbing handfulls of his white t-shirt. “What’s wrong? Baby, what’s wrong?”

She’d sniffled and gasped, barely intelligible as they curled up on the couch together. Her legs hung over his lap. Arms wound around one another. It was all she could do not to pull him against her lips. 

“My parents,” she’d wailed, “we had a huge fight after you left.” 

She’d cried into his chest and Ben held her tightly. Shushed her and tucked her hair behind a shoulder. Kissed her temples and her forehead. Let her tug at his shirt and curl under his chin. 

Her eyes shined when the tears finally quieted, and she gazed up at Ben in the dark room.

“Want me to drive you home?”

Her hair had brushed his arm when she’d shaken her head. 

“You okay to drive?”

She looked at her lap and spoke in a whisper, hoping her wish would be impossible to disappoint. 

“Can I stay here? Please?”

Ben had gulped and licked his lips. She watched silently as he furrowed his brow. She  ran her hand through the hair laying on his collar and watched his face.

“Please? Promise I’ll leave in the morning. Just please let me stay, Ben. I just want to be with you.”

“What about your parents?”

“What about my parents?” she’d asked, hurrying, “I’m an adult, you know. Not a child.”

She’d held his gaze while he thought, and then laid her head on his chest.  
When she woke hours later in his twin guest bed, it took a minute to work out her disorientation. He was just down the hall, probably. Maybe already asleep. Rey crept out of bed and tiptoed to his room. His door was closed, but Rey knew what she needed. No time to think, no time to ask.

Not when he was this close. 

She padded close, and opened the door, slipping inside. When she climbed into his bed, she shouldn’t have gotten so close, but he was warm and sleepy. The odds of him rejecting her were close to nil, and she wanted to push her luck just a little more. See how much of him she could get. 

“You sure this is a good idea?” His voice rumbled through her, tired and deep.

She reached for him and God help her, he was so strong and big. He could protect her from anything. He was what she’d wanted her whole, entire life. Her forehead touched his and their noses grazed slightly. Legs touched and tangled gently under the blankets. 

“Ben, please,” she whispered. She rolled her head against his, and felt his huge hands span her waist. 

“Need you. Need you so much.”

It was the truth and she was shameless to tell him. 

“Let me stay.” 

Ben was hers, and she was his completely. Goddamn both their souls to hell.

 

What could she say? What could she do? She belonged to him already. 

She always had - and now, she always would.

 

******

 


End file.
